


We May Die Tomorrow

by Lunardeityastrid



Category: Batlantern - Fandom, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Batlantern - Freeform, F/M, Historical References, M/M, Slightly Smutty, WW2 AU, also there is sooo much heartbreak, and death, bomber pilot, field medic, maybe some historical inaccuracy, mentions of smoking, no one knows what the fuck they're doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunardeityastrid/pseuds/Lunardeityastrid
Summary: “My squadron is leaving tomorrow.”“I know.”Hal raised an eyebrow. He had expected more of a reaction.”I may die tomorrow.”Bruce didn’t say anything but his body went visibly stiff, his hands slacking on the bandages. Hal propped himself up grimacing at the minor pain. If there were more pilots, Hal would have had his rest and recovery. Only B-17s were falling out of the sky like flies over Berlin. Last mission, twenty-five went out. Two returned. Each mission the stakes were higher. Hal refused to be the tiniest bit of an optimist; he would only be lying to himself. He cupped Bruce’s face, dragging him in for a faint kiss on the lips. Hal didn’t worry about the other pilots in the tent, they were all comatose anyways.
Relationships: Carol Ferris/Hal Jordan, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Shayera Hol/John Stewart
Comments: 32
Kudos: 72





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Gets slightly smutty towards the end. Also cussing, smoking, mentions of death)

Oceanic eyes found Hal’s in the poorly lit medical tent. The reminder of the ocean, of California’s shores, stirred the feeling of home in the injured pilot. The medic, Bruce, dropped his eyes to the white sodden bandages on Hal’s torso, his hands gentle on bare skin. 

Hal ran his fingers over the sleeve on Bruce’s green fatigues, reaching up to the white armband with the red cross on it. The corner of Bruce’s lips raised as he turned to find Hal’s admiring gaze. 

“My squadron is leaving tomorrow.” 

“I know.” 

Hal raised an eyebrow. He had expected more of a reaction.”I may die tomorrow.” 

Bruce didn’t say anything but his body went visibly stiff, his hands slacking on the bandages. Hal propped himself up grimacing at the minor pain. If there were more pilots, Hal would have had his rest and recovery. Only B-17s were falling out of the sky like flies over Berlin. Last mission, twenty-five went out. Two returned. Each mission the stakes were higher. Hal refused to be the tiniest bit of an optimist; he would only be lying to himself. He cupped Bruce’s face, dragging him in for a faint kiss on the lips. Hal didn’t worry about the other pilots in the tent, they were all comatose anyways. 

Hal sat up fully, tossing his legs off the side of the cot. He pressed lingering kisses to Bruce’s jaw and then his neck. He pulled away, his brown eyes glimmering. 

“I love you.” 

“No.” Bruce opened his eyes slowly before getting up. Hal felt his heart sink but only saw this as Bruce being stubborn.”We shouldn’t continue this. Most of this was just a mistake.” 

“I may die.”Hal repeated.”Hell, all of us may die.” 

“Then let that be my reason why.” 

“That didn’t stop us the other night. If anything, it encouraged us.” 

The tent flapped open. The sounds of a groaning turret gunner filled the small space. Hal shuffled to put his white blood-stained tee-shirt on. He kept his eyes level on Bruce to not see the hits the gunner had taken. Being in the small ball at the underside of the B-17 left a gunner fully exposed to enemy planes.

Bruce shrugged his shoulder to Hal before going off to aid the injured man. Hal’s eyes followed Bruce for a split second before he snagged his bomber jacket off the cot, leaving the medical tent. 

He doubted the two of them would finish this conversation.

\--

Wavering as it came down for a landing, the beaten-up-fuel leaking B-17 grabbed every man’s attention. Hal stood with part of his crew; John Stewart, Kyle Rayner, and Guy Gardner. The B-17 wasn’t going to land nicely. If the pilot aboard were lucky, it would land with ease; he and his crew could crawl out before it engulfed in flames. Each man knew that the chance was incredibly slim as they held their breath. Sirens cried out into the air as jeeps filled with medics rushed onto the tarmac. 

Within seconds the B-17 hit the ground, erupting into flames. Hal shook his head letting out an exasperated breath. This wasn’t the first and it certainly wasn’t the last. It was just another war-stricken day. He put his cigar between his lips and turned away from the fireball, from Bruce working to his slumped crew shuffling around cards. 

“What’s the take?”Hal asked puffing on his cigar. He sat on a recycled oil barrel next to John Stewart. 

“Whole month’s salary,” John replied, moving an ace and queen around. 

Hal nodded wanting to joke about how the month hadn’t begun yet, how if they made it back the winner would take all. But he decided against it. He couldn’t let his pessimistic view poison his crewmates. Through cigar smoke he saw Bruce, sleeves rolled up as he maneuvered a badly burned pilot from the steaming wreckage. Hal was still confused about what had happened in the tent. Maybe this being the first real injury Hal had and not something made-up cemented the current reality to Bruce. On the other hand, Hal knew there were casualties in war. He just didn’t let it bother him. Being in a massive fortress, he had a bullseye on his back. He wondered how Bruce, a man who had seen men blown to hell or burnt to nearly unrecognizable ash, not understand the stakes and not want to live his life to the very edge.

“How’s that wound?” 

Hal turned his head to Kyle .”Just a graze. You guys aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon.” 

On the flight back, their B-17, The Martini, was struck by an enemy plane. The bullet shattered through the ball gunner and up out the front windshield. It grazed Hal just underneath the ribcage. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.” 

They fell into littered chatter as they continued to play their game of cards. A young private wandered over to the group, a mailbag over his shoulder.”Captain Jordan?” 

“Yeah?” Hal nearly rolled his eyes. He was tired of seeing this private more so because of what his role was. 

Guy squinted, tossing his cards face down.”You got anything for me? Guy Gardner. Maybe something from a girl back home or my ma.” 

The private shook his head.”I’m sorry. The only one-” 

“Yeah yeah. They’ve all been for Hal.” 

Hal blew smoke in Guy’s direction before taking the familiar pink envelope, perfume tingling his senses. He thanked the private and excused himself to take refuge in his tent. Guy had a bad habit of reading over Hal’s shoulder or taking the letter and reading it aloud. 

Once on his cot, cigar wedged between his teeth, Hal tore into the letter. His heart practically in his throat. 

_My Love,  
You’ve received my last few letters, I hope? I miss hearing from you. I still don’t understand why you stopped writing to me all of a sudden. I hope you’re alright.  
My Father’s been busy building planes for the war effort. I’ve helped out some, even flew in one. Oh, I feel like I’m writing to a ghost. I almost don’t know what to say, you haven’t said a word. For all, I know you could be dead in the ocean. I’m trying not to be macabre but it’s so hard when all my girlfriends are getting letters from their beau.  
Anyway, I love you very much Hal Jordan. You better come home to me.  
-Carol Ferris♡ ___

__Hal ran his hand through his brown hair. A few weeks ago, when Hal and Bruce began to sneak around on base, Hal had completely stopped writing letters to his girlfriend, who only discussed marriage. He shoved the neatly folded paper into the envelope and tossed it under his pillow with the other opened and non responded letters. He laid on his side, closing his eyes tightly. He could see Carol, her long black hair, the mischievous smile that he would go through hell to see. But now, he was seeing more of Bruce, a man he had to pull into empty hangers or steal a kiss among injured servicemen. He no longer knew who he loved and who was only there as a necessity._ _

__For the sake of tomorrow’s mission, Hal pulled out his stationary. He would write Carol, tell her things were okay, that she shouldn’t worry about him. Hal would take that sealed letter with him on the inside pocket of his jacket. Only sending it, if he made it back. That way the things written burned in a fiery crash with him._ _

__Hal wondered momentarily if he enjoyed Bruce’s company because it sparked the same thrill that flying gave him or if the feelings he had were real. He knocked those thoughts out of his head as he anchored his pen over his paper._ _

__\--_ _

__Something was tugging on Hal’s ankle. He kicked it away trying to readjust on the stiff cot. It didn’t stop, whatever it was. Groggily, his hair tousled, Hal sat upright, tossing the thin blanket aside. The eyes staring back at him, under the glow of an amber lantern, wiped all the sleep out of his body. Hal squinted as he grabbed his cigar and lighter._ _

__“Smoking kills,” Bruce whispered. Hal laughed._ _

__“That’s not the only thing.”Hal titled his head blowing the smoke up into the air, through his nose and mouth.”What are you doing here?”_ _

__“I came to talk about earlier.”_ _

__Hal raised his eyebrows. Bruce continued._ _

__“I just think that now isn’t the right time, maybe there won’t ever be a right time but...the world is at war. There is no room to be chasing around after each other. Not to mention how wrong this is, that we should have never started this in the first place.”_ _

__Hal took his cigar out of his mouth; he leaned over and kissed Bruce. The taste of tobacco clouding his senses. Despite what Bruce had just said, he kissed back. Hal ditched his cigar to the floor, curls of smoke rolling from it._ _

__“As you said, the world is at war. Indulge me just a bit.”_ _

__“Hal-” Bruce’s hands were roaming over Hal’s body, careful to not touch the white bandages under Hal’s clothes. Hal worked on Bruce’s buttons. The green fatigue rolled off his shoulder, exposing his bare arms._ _

__“Give me a reason to fight tomorrow.”_ _

__Bruce’s hand went behind Hal’s head, cupping his neck. Slowly, lips drawn together, Bruce laid Hal against the sorry excuse of a pillow. The cot cried in protest of their weight joining together but Hal and Bruce already knew it could hold them. They had tested the cot’s strength the other night._ _

__They were careless as they pulled the fatigues off each other and tossed them onto the floor. The other night, the first night lust took over, they explored each other, learned from their mistakes, learned what excited each other and what could work. It hadn’t been smooth sailing but tonight was different. Bruce knew Hal’s body better, knew the things that made him shiver. Bruce buried his head into Hal’s shoulder, his arm under Hal’s head, his hips thrusting in a slow spasmodic rhythm. Some thrust had Hal whimpering and holding Bruce’s hips. The pain, the sensation, all of it was different. All of it excited Hal. Hal had to bite his lips to keep himself quiet. The last thing either of them wanted was for someone to come wondering in._ _

__Hal groaned as he lifted his head, nudging it against Bruce’s. He wasn’t going to last long, the tightness in his stomach already washing over him. He could tell Bruce wouldn’t either, his thrust getting rougher and faster. Softly, almost faintly, he choked out a moan against Bruce’s ear. He was thankful for Bruce’s breathy moans against his ear. It blocked out the sound of Carol’s letters ruffling under the pillow._ _

__His dog tags were sticking to the sweat on his heaving chest. As much as he wanted Bruce to stay in his tent, he watched Bruce shuffle back into his clothes, smoothing his raven hair. Hal motioned for Bruce to come back to him. Bruce did and Hal muttered against his lips.”You’re so fucking handsome.”_ _

__Bruce shook his head but a smile formed on his lips as he pressed his forehead to Hal’s. For just a moment, nothing else mattered, not the world at war, not the lives they left behind. Nothing.”Good luck in the morning.”_ _

__Hal hummed, pulling back. He reached off the cot and picked up his shirt. He fumbled with the pin before pulling his silver wings off. Hal held them out to Bruce who was hesitant to take them.”Hold on to ‘em until I get back.”_ _

__“Those are your wings. What am I supposed to say if I get caught with them?”_ _

__“No one has to know, say you found them. Besides, it’s a promise to come back.”_ _

__Bruce took the wings into his palm, making a loose fist. He made it to the opening of the tent before turning back to look at Hal. The words out of his mouth set a small fire under Hal’s feet. It shattered everything that had just happened earlier.”You know, I have a girl back home and I love her very much.”_ _

__“Don’t we all? Maybe they deserved better than the piece of shit excuses that are you and me, huh?”_ _

__Even in the low light, Hal could see Bruce roll his eyes._ _

__“Hey, this might just be the end of it all.”_ _

__“I’m sure you’d love an easy way out.”_ _

__Hal watched Bruce leave before falling back onto his pillow. Bruce felt something, he had to. It was why he came back, why he continued to come back. Hal closed his eyes trying to get some sleep for what would be the longest night of his life._ _


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blood warning(Not a lot but it's there)

At zero-six hundred hours, the base was buzzing. Fighter pilots were being briefed before they hauled into the P-51s. Hal stood by The Martini watching as the pilots took off one by one. They were to escort the bombers to the edge of Berlin and no further. Hal considered it fucking stupid, seeing as once they made it over Berlin the real fighting started. That was when the Germans threw everything they had at the bombers. The bombers would be alone, completely unguarded. Nearly 1,000 men, several blind spots, and hundreds of fast German fighters. 

The fighter pilot in Hal liked the odds, but he wasn’t in a fighter anymore. His kill streak and mission success put him at the top of the list for a bomber pilot. 

He dropped his cigar and stubbed it out under his combat boots. His tired eyes went just to the edge of the medical tent. He laughed quietly deciding against going to see Bruce. Hal went across the tarmac, one hand in the pocket of his tan pants, to the idling Martini, signified by the spilling glass and blonde pin-up on its nose. He climbed inside, setting in the pilot’s seat. He began to mindlessly go through the checklist. 

The affair between pilot and medic started from a simple conversation and a few looks. Hal had gone into the medic tent very rarely but he noticed Bruce was a new medic, one who had just come from Jersey City. Bruce was the quiet medic and Hal didn’t like that. He took it upon himself to get the medic talking and accustomed to base. But it was Bruce who touched Hal first, in a way that made Hal curious. A grip just on Hal’s forearm, a way no other man, not even Carol, had touched him. The following week behind a supply truck, he tested the waters and pulled Bruce into a kiss. Hal knew that if Bruce wasn’t interested he would simply knock Hal in the jaw and they would be even. Instead, the punch never came. They were on each other like fleas on a dog, Hal’s back to the supply truck. The rest then became them sneaking around, stealing passionate moments whenever possible. 

Hal heard the rear door creak open and the roar of the Martini filled the cabin. He kept his focus on the gauges before calling out.

“Ready to fight for your life?” 

Silence responded to him. Hal craned his neck expecting to see John, instead, it was Bruce. 

“You sound like the worst Captain to fly with.” Bruce chimed as he sat in the co-pilot’s seat, his arms folded over his chest. The early morning chill was no better inside the bomber. 

Hal smirked, dropping the clipboard to his lap.”I’m being realistic. It’s not like we’re about to go cloud-surfing. Come by to bid me a farewell?” 

“No. I came by to make sure an infection wasn’t setting in.” 

“Hmm.” Hal had a mischievous look in his eyes.”Should I strip?” 

“I swear to god, you piss me off sometimes.”Bruce shook his head, getting up to his feet. Hal sighed and caught his wrist. 

“Wait. Don’t leave yet. I’ll knock it off.” 

Bruce’s blue eyes searched Hal’s face. Beneath Hal’s flyboy exterior there was something genuine. Hesitation or fear? Bruce wasn’t sure so he sat back down in the seat. He took Hal’s hand in his, holding it tightly. Hal shifted the conversation as if nothing had happened. 

“Ever flown a bomber?” 

“Of course not. I don’t think I could.” 

Hal nodded as his thumb rubbed circles on the backside of Bruce’s hand.”My dad flew the early models in the Great War. He was a real daredevil. I always thought he had nerves of steel.” 

“Are you scared, Hal?” 

“There’s no room for fear 15,000 feet in the air.” 

“Why are all you pilots like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“You know what I mean. All of you walk around this base like you’ve got the biggest pair of balls and-” A grin broke out on Hal’s lips.” No. Stop with that shit-eating grin.” 

“You said it. I guess we just have ice in our veins and steel balls.” 

The two of them laughed briefly and then the cabin fell into silence. Hal, starry-eyed, watched Bruce before leaning over and pressing his lips to Bruce’s. It was a quick kiss that lingered long after Hal pulled away, his mouth opened ready to speak. 

“Don’t say it, Hal.”

Hal dropped his head to Bruce’s shoulder.”I mean it when I say it.” He lifted his head and rested his arms on Bruce’s shoulders, his fingers rubbing the raven hairs at the base of his neck.”You never say it back and you never want me to say it. Why?” 

The roaring sound of the engines filled the cabin again, along with the chatter of Hal’s crew. Bruce stood suddenly, nearly making Hal fall over into the other seat. Then it hit Hal like a freight train, he knew why Bruce never said it. 

What was it he had said? Now wasn’t the right time and there might never be a right time? It was something along those lines.

“You should be fine to fly, Captain Jordan.” The rumbling of the engine died out. Hal nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. 

“Then you’ll need to step off, medic. We’ll be heading up any minute now.”

“Right.” Hal turned in his seat. Bruce stayed where he was. John wove past him taking the seat he had just rushed out of. There was nothing Bruce could say but he felt he needed to say something.

“Good Luck.” 

Hal had heard him. He just didn’t look at him. 

\--

Hal had been quiet, mindlessly quiet. His brown eyes just blankly staring as they left the allied territory behind. That had bothered John and as he could tell, it bothered the rest of the crew. John could feel their eyes burning into the back of his head. It was something more than the mission. When Hal had been shot just the other day, he was more talkative than this. John turned his gaze to Hal. He hoped that maybe he could reach him as the deeply rooted friends they were. 

“Where’s your head, Hal?” 

Hal laughed bitterly, his oxygen mask down, and a cigar burning from his lips.”On my shoulders.”

“That’s...that’s not what I meant and you know that. Did the medic say something about your wound?” 

“Eyes up, boys! We should see Jerrys' any minute now.” Hal ignored John as he switched his radiofrequency. He nodded his head towards the P-51s that joined the bombardment squadron in flight. 

Kyle slid into the ball turret, Guy took rear gunning position and John tightened his grip on the yoke. The other replacements for the men The Martini had lost the other day, took their respective positions as well. The cabin fell silent, eerily so. 

Then the first enemy plane, with its spiraled nose, shot by their bomber at lighting speed. Hal sucked in a deep breath as he crushed his lit cigar against the metal control panel. His responsibility now was to keep his eyes glued to the sky and trust his crew. He heard the ball turret whizz as it rotated to track the enemy plane. Chatter from the fighters could be heard, they were just as stunned at how fast and how many of the German fighters there were. 

Hal flinched at the sound of multiple guns firing. No matter how many times he had done this, the hammering of bullets didn’t always warn you where they were coming from. 

Two enemies, this time on both sides of the bomber. Hal looked around, four bombers fell from the sky all sides littered with bullet holes and blood with the windows. The fighters were leaving the bombardment squadron and going after the kill. Hal saw it before, he thought they were told otherwise.

“What the fuck are the fighters doing?” 

“Captain, Jerry’s on our tail!” Guy shouted over the radio bullet casings flying out of his gun. 

Hal readjusted his grip, his gloved fingers spreading and closing back. They weren’t even into Germany yet and thousands of Jerry’s were flying straight at them. 

Glass shattered. Wind could be heard on the radio.” Ah...shit.”Kyle groaned.”He got me.” 

“Guy pull him out!” Hal ordered. Guy left his gun and lifted the hatch on the turret. Hal turned back to see a bloodied Kyle laying just above it. Only twenty-two, this was no way for him to die, Hal thought. Suddenly, still facing the rear, Hal felt a warmth spread across his face before he registered the sounds that followed. He turned slowly from Kyle to see John bleeding from the two bullets that had pierced through the windshield. 

Everything had gone to shit, rather quickly. 

“John, stay with me. Okay? Navigator,” Hal had forgotten the man’s name and didn’t feel the need to ask for it.” take his place.” 

The navigator did so with shaking hands. He maneuvered John out of his seat before taking his place at the controls. John’s blood stained his leather jacket as he took the seat and Hal wondered if it would seal the Navigator’s fate as well. John sat with his back slumped against Hal’s seat, his head to his chest. Hal took one hand off the yoke and held John’s shoulder.”Stay awake, dammit. You’re not dying up here.” 

Hal turned the yoke right, completely abandoning his mission, to head back to base. Whatever consequences came with abandoning his mission, he would take it but he wasn’t letting his men die because of the fighters' need for glory. They couldn’t bomb Berlin without a fighting chance. They would be suicide bombing that place. Hal also noticed once he shook the initial shock, that the B-17 was leaking fuel. If they didn’t head back now, they wouldn’t make it at all. Then they would test their luck landing on the tarmac with an eight thousand pound bomb load.

Right now, Hal thought about Kyle. He was the youngest of all of them and somehow got pushed into this. Kyle hadn’t had the chance to live his life before being put on a bomber squadron. He thought about John, his wife, and his daughter waiting back home in Chicago. John couldn’t leave them like this.

“How’s Kyle?” Hal asked, expecting Guy to answer. 

“I’m...I’m alright, Captain. I’m hurting like a son of a bitch though.” 

“Base isn’t far off. Hang in there, kid.” Hal turned his head to John.”John, you hear me?” 

John let out a painfilled groan.”I don’t...I don’t…” 

“You will. Tell me about your daughter, about Shayera. Just keep talking to me.”

“Oh god.”John choked on his blood and began to sob. 

Hal felt the tears burn in his eyes. He felt the immense fear and anger boil from deep inside. He reached a hand down taking John’s hand in his, squeezing hard enough for John to feel it. For it to be a reminder that John was not alone. He still felt warm but it didn’t matter. John was holding on by a thread. 

Hal blamed himself. For Kyle being assigned to him, for not looking to see the enemy flying right at them and not diving the bomber for the bullet to miss John. Hal blamed himself for his mind being elsewhere. 

\--  
Medics met the Martini on the tarmac. To Hal’s luck, or whatever was left, he landed the smoking bomber and didn’t end up like the poor bastards yesterday. Kyle could be treated on base. Turns out the bullet passed through and didn’t hit any major organs. John, on the other hand, was being transported off base to the nearest hospital. It tore Hal up that he couldn’t go with John, that he had ignored him. 

He had gone into his tent, shaken up a bit, John’s blood dried to his face. It was all so different to see his friends bleeding out and him being entirely helpless. He knew the war had casualties but for some reason, he didn’t see his friends, his crew, as casualties. Someway Hal imagined that they would all walk off this base when the war had ended. 

Hal had his hands cupped together while his combat boot squeaked as he shook his leg. He didn’t notice the dried crimson had seeped around his aviator’s ring. 

His tent opened and Hal didn’t move. Bruce had knelt in front of him.”I heard- did you get hit?” Bruce’s hands opened Hal’s jacket searching for blood on the inside.

“...fine.” Hal swatted him away as he stood up.”I’m fine, Bruce.” 

“The blood on your face?” 

“John’s. Where’s Kyle?”

“Kyle’s getting blood but I doubt he’ll be ready for another mission. He might be going home.” 

Hal didn’t say a word. His shaky hands lit his cigar as he stood puffing it. Bruce dug into his pocket for a white cloth. He grabbed Hal’s canteen, sloshing the water inside, and doused the white cloth. He reached out to Hal’s face and wiped the dried speckles away. 

“It should have been me,” Hal said softly. 

Bruce shook his head.”It shouldn’t have been anyone but this is what we were given. Sometimes, you have to make do with what you have.” 

Hal turned his dead eyes to Bruce. He didn’t want to talk about his feelings not anymore, and not to Bruce. Bruce had no idea what hell he had just come back from. No one knew and no one could give him any words of comfort.”You’ve done your job, medic. I’m fine.” 

“Hal?” 

“I’m going off-base for a little while.” 

This time it was Hal who left Bruce dumbfounded standing alone in poor lighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I am so in love with this Au. It keeps me up at night haha.) 
> 
> If you've never seen a ball turret, I highly recommend you look it up. It's one of the coolest inventions, to me, from WW2. But there is no way in hell I would get in it. 😂😂 
> 
> Thanks for reading!💖😊


	3. 3

Hal wandered much of London in a daze. Despite being stationed in England for nearly four months, he hadn’t seen the city, at least what was left of it. The constant air raids left much of the city in ruins. He thought that bombing Berlin kept the cities and the civilians safe. It was part of the reason why Hal enlisted. It didn’t look like it was doing any good. However, each person Hal passed didn’t seem fazed by the raging war, the war that many of them were censored from. Londoners strolled arm in arm, smiles on their faces, living each day like they too would die tomorrow. 

He passed a young woman rolling a bassinet, whose husband was probably on the frontlines as well. Hal spared a glance at the sleeping child before his mind went to John. To John’s little girl he had only met through photos and letters, not yet in person. He always kept a photo on him just in the breast pocket of his tan dress shirt, where his wings would hang above it. Those were his two greatest accomplishments.

Something hit Hal’s cheek and his body shuddered as he turned his head upwards rather abruptly. It was only rain, not John dying next to him. That moment was never going to leave Hal’s mind. He could still see it, still feel the anguish form in his stomach. 

He still didn’t have any inclination as to what happened to John after he was taken off base. Part of leaving was to get away from Bruce, to get away from any small notion of the mission that had gone to shit and John had been gnawing at his mind. Hal hoped, prayed to whoever was listening, that his efforts hadn’t been in vain. He picked up his pace leaving the ruins behind to find the hospital that might have taken John. 

The hospital wasn’t quiet like it would have been back home. Sounds of agony and cries lingered throughout. Wounded men, some dying, laid next to each other on white sheets, slowly being stained red. Many of them cried out as nurses struggled to ease their pain. The ones who lived past this atrocious war would regret it for the rest of their days, being plagued with the things seen on the battlefield. Hal was holding his hat in his hands, twisting it this way and that, as he passed a blood-soaked nurse. The color on her face was gone, she seemed to be working autonomously. Hal couldn’t blame her, this was the bloody aftermath. Brave men who fought to find glory would only wind up here. 

Hal could only think that if he was lucky, he would die upon impact and not linger between life and death. 

A soldier’s hand reached out towards Hal. He thought maybe it was John and did a small side step towards the bed, the man’s muffled words left his mouth. Hal could hear him asking for his mother. The soldier, probably no older than eighteen, suffered burns to most of his body. Hal heard about the tanks the Germans were using, they would spit fire rather than bullets. For a moment, he was relieved he wasn’t on the frontlines. Hal closed his eyes tightly as he forced himself to move on. There was nothing he could do. 

There was some fear, some heavyweight that rested on Hal as he moved through the hospital.

John was in the back corner of the room, his eyes shut and chest rising faintly. Hal felt like a child weaving his way over, unsure of what was happening and what to say. A nurse moved in front of Hal stopping him. She didn’t wear a smile instead a grim expression that only weighed heavier in the room. Then again this was no place that someone could smile in without feeling guilty. 

“Are you Hal Jordan?” 

“I am.” 

“John Stewart has been asking for you. He’s very weak so please try to be brief.” 

“Is-” Hal’s voice wavered but he forced himself to regain whatever composure he had left.” is he going to make it?” 

She smiled apologetically.“We’ve made him comfortable.”

He nodded already knowing what that meant. The nurse moved around him to her next patient. 

Hal lifted John’s hand and squeezed hoping to stir him from his sleep. He placed his hat on the bedside table next to John’s bloodied photos of home, photos of the world he was leaving behind.

In a faint voice, eyes still closed, John spoke, his grip trying but failing to match Hal’s.”Is that you, Hal? 

“I’m here.” 

John opened his eyes, looking out the corner at Hal. Tears poured from both corners and down onto the pillow below. John knew he was dying and it broke Hal’s heart that there was nothing he could do or say to change it. Hal dropped his forehead to John’s hands and cried softly. 

“I don’t want to go home just yet. We haven’t won the war.” 

“We will. Just get some rest, okay. You’ve done all you can.” 

“Will you stay for a while?” John closed his eyes again. Hal pulled over the nearest chair and sat. 

“I’ll be right here.” 

And Hal stayed. He stayed until the early morning light flooded into the room, waking him from where he laid his head. He stayed until the nurse pulled the sheet over John’s face.   
\--  
“He won,” Guy said somberly. 

Hal had gone past the mechanics whizzing away at the Martini to the medical tent where Guy was sitting by Kyle’s bedside. Bullet holes had sprayed the side of the B-17 making it a wonder that the entire plane didn’t go down. The mechanics washed the reddish-brown remnants of Kyle from inside the ball turret. War was a never-ending cycle. The Martini would undoubtedly fly again.

When he made it to the Medical tent, he buried every ounce of grief he had and told them. Guy and Kyle took it like the soldiers they were. In private, maybe they would shed a tear. The four of them were always together, always sloshing a beer around as they sang in crowded bars. 

“What?” Hal asked softly.

“The game of poker we were playing. He won.” 

“Oh.” Hal had completely forgotten they finished that game. He had thought none of them would be coming back.”Then we’ll send it to Shayera. I’ll throw in my salary too.” 

“It’s the least we can do.” Kyle nodded at Hal’s suggestion. 

The three of them fell into a mournful silence that was until Guy started to talk about the time John took it upon himself to fix his fighter. A time before they came together to the bombardment squadron. Soon they all smiled, busting out into laughter, in the rather quiet medical tent.   
\--

With nowhere else to go Hal started for his tent. To mourn or simply sleep, he wasn’t sure yet. He still had yet to mail Carol her letter. He almost wanted to go and change the things he had written, to tell her about the failed mission. But he didn’t want her to worry, to send him far more letters than he wanted. She was the last person on his mind. Hundreds of miles away, Hal only considered it normal to not think about her, or the life he had left behind.

Halfway to his tent, a firm British voice called out to Hal.”Captain Jordan!” Hal sucked in a breath. The man the voice belonged to, had usually gotten along with Hal. The man had after all served with Hal’s father, Martin. There had been a few headbutts but nothing serious. At the end of the day, Alfred could see the same pilot that blossomed in Martin. Hal though, he wasn’t too sure they would stay in good rapport with each other after this conversation. 

Hal pivoted on his feet and raised his hand in a salute to Major Alfred Pennyworth.”Sir.”

Major Pennyworth walked closer, practically looming over Hal.”Insubordination and being off base without authorization. Both of which can lead to you being stripped of your ranks.” This was the consequence of bringing a bomb load back to base. Hal knew deep in his mind that it would come eventually.

“If your fighters wouldn’t have fucking abandoned us, I wouldn’t have had to turn back!” 

“Whether they abandon you or not, your mission is to drop bombs on the city of Berlin. Bombing those targets is crucial to winning the war.” 

“We’ve been bombing Berlin for weeks and that didn’t stop John from getting killed, it hasn’t stopped the cities from being destroyed either. And if I’m being honest, sir, it doesn’t seem like we’re winning at all.” Hal shrunk down, shaking from his bout of rage. He looked everywhere but at the man in front of him. He knew better than to raise his voice at his superior.

A P-51 landed on the tarmac, sputtering as it taxied passed Alfred and Hal. 

Alfred cleared his throat once the plane died down. Something about his demeanor changed.”I’m very sorry to hear about John, he was a fine man. I want you to take some time and clear your head.” 

“I don’t need time, Major. Put me in a fighter.” Being grounded was the last thing Hal wanted to do. If anything, he wanted to win this war. He wanted to win it for John.

“And send you up there to get killed?”

“Your escorts aren’t doing their jobs.” 

There was visible hesitation in Alfred’s eyes. Hal figured he was thinking about his late father about how the switch killed Martin Jordan.“Maybe, Captain. I’ll see about having you reassigned. You’re dismissed.”Hal turned to leave. For just a moment, he felt calm, that was until Alfred called at him again, tapping the silver pin on his chest.”Where are your wings?” 

Hal recalled exactly what he had done with them and he dreaded the conversation that would follow to get them back.”Must have left them in my tent.” 

Once Alfred seemed satisfied with the answer and turned away from Hal, Hal darted towards Bruce's tent on the other side of the base.   
\--   
Hal opened the flap on Bruce’s tent, entering quietly and uninvited. Bruce still heard him and turned away from whatever he was writing at his desk. His blue eyes shined under his furrowed brows as he dropped his pencil. 

“I thought you were upset with me after you stormed off earlier.” 

“I am,” Hal answered. He moved over to Bruce and his desk. He could barely see that the unfinished letter was going to Selina. He didn’t care to strain his eyes and see what Bruce was saying to her. But Bruce didn’t try to cover it up.”I only came here to get my wings back.”

Bruce looked disappointed for a moment. He nodded his head before lifting his armband. Underneath, Hal’s wings had been pinned to the sleeve of his shirt. A strange place to Hal but a safe place. Bruce had to take his fatigue off unbuttoning the front, to reach in for the back of the pin. Hal turned his head trying to focus on something in the room. Once he had gotten the pin off, he placed them in his open palm waiting for Hal to reach out and take them. Hal hesitated but reached out. He fastened them back on the front of his uniform. 

“Thanks,” Hal muttered. 

“Was that all you came back for?” 

“What else would I have come back for, Bruce?” 

Bruce shrugged.”I don’t know. I haven’t seen you. I was worried about you.” 

“Bullshit. You’re ashamed of me, of what you are.” 

“I get that you just lost someone-” 

“This doesn’t have a fucking thing to do with John, so don’t bring him into this! It’s about you Bruce, about you being ashamed that you are how you are and that you can’t fucking help yourself around me!” 

“Well, I don’t see you shouting it at the mountaintops either!” 

Hal laughed.”I don’t-I’m not asking you to tell everyone. Believe me, I know the ridicule we’d face. I’m just asking you to let me know how you fucking feel.” 

Bruce couldn’t say anything, he didn’t know what to say. Hal shook his head, a grim smile on his lips, as he left the tent. This time Bruce followed. Hal was halfway up the tarmac moving fast, fueled by his anger.

Bruce grabbed Hal by the arm, forcing him to turn around. Bruce didn’t say a word as he closed the gap between him and Hal, kissing him harshly on the lips. Kissing him out on the tarmac in the evening sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I had this written like four days ago but felt like this part needed heavy editing. I'm pretty happy with it...somewhat. I hope it was worth the wait!😊)
> 
> Woohoo, It's the weekend!! And October! (Speaking of that I somehow forgot about Whumptober...so oops?) 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and thank you for being patient!💖😊


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Okay so this chapter is mostly smut and I'm going to forewarn I don't write smut often. And this isn't beta-read because I'll die like a man...)

_“Neither of them gets what this is like. I’m sure they try.” Hal said, blowing cigar smoke into the air. He turned his glossy eyes to Bruce who was folding up one of Selina’s neatly written letters.”But I doubt they’re waiting around for us to come home or have MPs knock on their doors.”_

__

_“Selina is different. She’s sophisticated, she’s-”_

__

__

_“-the love of your life?”_

__

__

_Bruce laughed. He couldn’t believe that the two of them had so confidently talked about the women they had at home. The women were rarely conversation topics between the two.”I haven’t asked her to marry me.”_

__

_Hal looked away from Bruce. He looked across the tent from where they sat, backs to the flimsy side.“Are you going to?”_

__

__

_“How could I break your heart like that, Hal?”_

__

__

_Hal shoved Bruce with his shoulder before bringing one of his knees up to his chest. The rain poured down outside, quietly and softly tapping. Hal didn’t say anything but instead watched Bruce lift the canteen of bourbon, the bourbon that Hal had smuggled back onto the base, to his lips and drink it gingerly.”What are we doing?”_

__

__

_“Drinking and smoking apparently.”_

__

__

_“I’m talking about you and me. Sure this is fun and exciting but it seems like that’s all it will be.”_

__

__

_“Oh.”_

__

__

_There was a heavy silence between them. Hal tilted his head, gazing at Bruce. Bruce reached over and caressed Hal’s face with his thumb in this little private world of their own._

__

__

_“We’re finding comfort in each other. A comfort we can’t find in anyone else. We’re stealing gazes across the mess hall and pulling each other in vacated planes for alone time. I don’t think we’ll ever get more than that. I simply don’t expect more than that.”_

__

__

_Hal rolled his eyes.”You sound like a hopeless romantic.”_

__

__

_“When it comes to you, I am.”_

__

__

_“Well then,” Hal puffed his cigar and blew the smoke out.”I guess I am too.”_

__

__

_Bruce guided Hal’s lips to his. A soft cigar and bourbon flavored kiss as the rain hailed on outside through the dark hours._

__

__

Hal pulled away from Bruce, a sigh leaving his lips as he stayed close. He couldn’t believe that Bruce had kissed him out in the open, both of them risked being discharged from the service. Hal ignored his surprise, thinking maybe he had been wrong about arguing with Bruce, and saying what he did. Though they had always risked it, they never allowed themselves to get caught.  
”Are you crazy?”

“Insane, maybe.” Bruce laughed deeply, his hands snaking around Hal’s waist. He kissed him softer this time. He pulled away searching Hal’s face. There was so much pain, so much confusion. Hal had been through a lot in the past two days. Some of it Bruce’s fault and some just a causality of war. Bruce didn’t want to add to it. He dropped his hands and stepped back.

”I’m not ashamed of you and I don’t want you to walk away upset with me. I’ve let you do it too much already. It’s just that loving each other in a time like this, is asking for a heartbreak. And, what I’m doing to Selina is making me ashamed of myself. But I will never be upset over the things we’ve done. I won’t regret those times and I won’t forget them. I do care about you despite the way I act at times.”

Hal didn’t say anything, he looked at Bruce with furrowed brows. He almost sounded like Bruce was leaving but Hal hadn’t paid any attention to the sublime message he thought was there.

“So? Will you forgive me and spend the rest of the evening with me? Like you always say, we may die tomorrow.” 

Hal smiled just a bit. His heart ached for comfort, to just lie against Bruce and mourn his friend, to have a rock in a hard place. Even if it was just the rest of the evening or a few hours, the world could feel like it stopped on its axis. Hal needed that more than he knew. He nodded slowly and the two of them turned back towards Bruce’s tent walking hand in hand.

The second they were in the safety of the low lit tent, Hal pulled Bruce flush to his body and kissed him with a fiery passion. They knew where this was leading them. Bruce needed to hold Hal, to feel him after the unexpressed fear he had the other day. Hal had lived, yes, but it seemed like such a close call. All he wanted was to feel Hal, to know that for right now he had Hal in his arms.

Hal, on the other hand, was desperate for Bruce's calloused hands on his body. He needed his mind to stop thinking, to suppress the last few days as nothing but memories. 

And as Bruce snaked his hands under Hal’s shirt, feeling the warmth radiating off his body, Hal felt himself slipping, relaxing. His shoulders slumped in Bruce’s touch, as his hand trailed over Bruce’s back. 

Slowly pushing their clothes off each other while moving towards the cot, they dropped to the floor. 

Bruce took Hal by his hips, lingering over him to see his hazy brown eyes, as he thrust into him as slow as possible. They still went off what they knew, how well they knew each other. Hal gasped, no longer worried about someone hearing them. 

They might die tomorrow. 

Bruce stilled his hips thinking something was wrong. Hal had rarely been that loud, only the first time. But Hal dragged him in for a kiss, his tongue parting Bruce’s lips. The familiar taste, the burn of cigar smoke tickled his mouth.

Bruce braced himself on one side of Hal’s head, and the other hand cradled his back, lifting him the slightest bit off the ground and closer to his own body. Close to each other, breath against breath, and chest to chest, their pleasure-filled moans filled each other’s ears. 

The world no longer existed. The war had been lost and won. The only thing that did matter was the feeling of warmth, the swarm of heaven that had touched earth for only tonight. Nothing could stop them as they chased their high, as they chased it together. 

There was no other lover in the world for them that would erase the whole world from existence.

Hal moved against Bruce and tossed his head back. His hand gripping the firm muscle of Bruce’s arm. The high he was chasing began to burn in his stomach as his legs shook against Bruce. In seconds, they both fell over the edge, panting and groaning as their bodies slacking and still against one enough, Bruce’s weight enveloping Hal. With light pecks, they kissed their way back down. 

The quiet, the post-high was interrupted by Bruce softly speaking against Hal’s ear. They had lingered in silence for a few minutes, while lying arm in arm on the floor, the rough blanket from the cot, draped over them. Hal didn’t feel the need to get up and rush back to his tent like other times. Tonight, he wanted to stay right next to Bruce, the thought that it would be the last lingering in his mind.

“I should tell you something.” 

“What is it?” Hal had his eyes closed, nuzzling into the crook of Bruce’s neck. 

“I-” The hesitation was heavy in his voice. Something deep down was bothering Bruce, but Hal had yet to raise his head and pull it out of him. Bruce readjusted his hand on Hal's head, running his fingers against Hal’s scalp. He didn’t want to worry Hal, to disrupt the peace they had right now.”Nevermind. It can wait.” 

Hal hummed hanging onto the edge of sleep. Bruce pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Hal.” 

The one time Bruce had said it, Hal was out cold. Bruce laughed softly as he adjusted his body next to Hal’s, holding the other man tightly in his arms. Rather than closing his eyes and getting rest, Bruce was left in the quiet, littered with Hal’s snores, wondering how cold and cruel he was to break Hal’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think Bruce needs to tell Hal? (I mean I already know...I'm just wondering who can guess it.😂😂)
> 
> As always thank you for reading, commenting, and just sticking around!💖😊


	5. 5

Three seemingly short and uneventful days had come and vanished like rain in the desert. Kyle had gone home, the first flight of base to be specific. After Hal and Guy said their goodbyes to Kyle, they found themselves parting. Guy was flying gunner on another b-17, The Warrior. The four corpsmen, the band of brothers, were no more. Hal had not been given a mission or the slightest hint he would fly another bomber. He lingered around Major Pennyworth’s quarters but the man kept his lips tightly together. Hal tried to consider his silence as a slim chance, Hal would be back in a P-51. 

At some point late in the night, away from Bruce and isolated in his tent, Hal wrote a letter to Shayera. He regretted not writing it sooner, that he was blinded by his own grief to not think of the pain she was going through. He apologized about John, though that apology wouldn’t change what happened. Hal knew he would wear that guilt for the rest of his life. It was his crew, his men that he was responsible for. He risked a lot but to him, it didn’t seem like enough. He asked about their daughter and wished her well, hoping the money they all sent her would tie her over for long enough. The following morning, Hal handed it off to the young private. 

He still hadn’t received a letter from Carol in regards to his last one. It felt like a bit of a relief. 

Hal and Bruce had still been their usual selves, only there was less sneaking and more laying around, absentmindedly, in each other’s tent. Neither of them seemed to be needed on base, nor had anyone come looking for them. 

During those three days, however, Hal noticed something off about Bruce. He would stare at Hal longer, kiss him a little softer, and he had actually told Hal that he loved him, no longer after Hal was out cold. Hal tried to ignore it, to write it off as nothing, but it still ate at him. He wondered about the letter Bruce had written Selina and cursed at himself for not reading it.  
\--

Hal was sitting on the floor just in front of his cot, an unlit cigar wedged between his teeth. In his hands, he had photos of California. He didn’t exactly long for home; he had always considered an airbase his home. Looking at the photos reminded him of what he was fighting for. The photos he had were aged and torn, ones of his father and mother, and a few of his brothers. Hal was trying to remember why he grabbed those when he first enlisted and not pictures of Carol. His family was all gone. Staring at these photos only reminded him, he was the last Jordan left. 

The somber thought was enough for him to lay the photos on the cot behind him. 

The tent opened and Hal scrambled to his feet, pulling the cigar from his mouth. Major Pennyworth in his tent read as two different messages. Hal was only hoping for one. 

“At ease, Captain.”Alfred entered, taking his cap off and placing it in his hands.”I’ll come out and say it.” 

Hal could feel the smile growing on his lips. It had to be that he was going to a fighter. 

“You’re going home.” 

His smile dropped. This was more than being grounded. It was having his wings clipped and burned in front of him. And with all the things that had happened in the past days, Hal had not imagined that his wings would be one of the things he would lose. Hal could feel his brows drop and lines crease in his forehead. He was trying, but failing, to say he didn’t want to go home, that right now he didn’t need to go home. He wondered if it was because of the last conversation they had where Hal lost his bearings. Or maybe Alfred thought Hal’s grief was getting to him.

Going home alive, uninjured, felt like giving up to Hal. Especially when his father and brothers died in the never-ending circle of war. When his best friend died miles from home. Hal’s promise had been broken in a matter of three words. 

“I want you to know I did take your request into account but Jordan, you’ve flown all required missions. It’s time for us to put new pilots in the sky.” 

“If this is about the last mission, I-” 

Alfred put his hand up, stopping Hal.”It has nothing to do with that. It is just your time to go home.”

“What if I want to stay?” 

“Then, one man to another, I would call you a crazy bastard.”Alfred sighed as he sat at Hal’s desk and ran his hand over his thinning hair.”Any man here would jump at the notion of going home, of being with their loved ones. Now, Hal, I know you want to fight. Martin did. He wanted to fight so badly, that it got him killed. He had a chance to go home but he told our commanding officer, just one more mission, one more target bombed and he would. Martin missed out on so much because he wanted one more than what he already had.” 

“I guess I’m just like him then,” Hal said softly. 

“In every way but one.” 

Hal couldn’t tell what Alfred meant by that or his overwhelmingly long stare. He looked away from Alfred and tucked his hands into his pockets. Maybe it was better to not ask how. 

“Get your things packed up. You’ll leave tomorrow. If you’re not on the plane home, I’ll come to find you myself.”

_You would love an easy way out. _Bruce’s words couldn’t have been anymore ironic. Nothing about this felt easy. Dying would have been easier. He wouldn’t have had to face Carol, to live a life separate from Bruce. This wasn’t just the war he was leaving, but also leaving someone he loved rather deeply.__

___Alfred’s hand rested on Hal’s shoulder. There were no words, only a reassuring grip and a knowing look shared between them.  
\--   
Hal was still trying to wrap his head around his rather quick discharge. He tried to count his missions by the dates in which he took off. Maybe Alfred had miscounted, maybe then Hal could find a way to stay for a little while longer. Momentarily Hal felt ashamed, ashamed that he wanted to stay when another man probably wanted to be lucky enough to see his family. He took in a deep breath. He was off to find Bruce. _

__It could have explained why both of them were idle on base. Maybe both of them were going home?_ _

__What exactly would that mean for them?_ _

__Bruce was bent over his army green seabag. His cot was folded up and much of the tent was bare. Hal wandered inside, realizing it would be the last time he would sneak in on Bruce. Bruce caught Hal’s gaze and immediately dropped it as he looked back to his packed items. Hal laughed softly as he moved beside Bruce, and took his hand in his._ _

__“Never thought we’d leave the war like this. Huh?”_ _

__Bruce wasn’t talking. He wasn’t grasping Hal’s hand back. His callous hand, a hand that pressed against bloody wounds time and time again, felt like dead weight in Hal’s. There was something in his blue eyes, something Hal had seen the day Bruce chased him out on the tarmac. Sorrow. And suddenly, Hal felt a pit form in his stomach._ _

__“We don’t have to figure anything out right now. When we get home-”_ _

__“I’m-” Bruce said rather sharply and Hal pulled his hand away. Bruce ruffled his raven hair as he sighed.”I’m not going home.”_ _

__Then it struck Hal but he didn’t want to grasp what Bruce was hinting at.” You’ve packed your stuff, though.”_ _

__“You can be an airhead sometimes.”Bruce laughed faintly.”I’ve been ordered to report the frontlines, somewhere near midway.”_ _

__“When did you find out?”_ _

__“A few days ago. Hal, I wanted to tell you, I-”_ _

__Hal zoned him out as his mind went back to the night at the hospital. This might as well have been a death sentence. Medics, much like bombers, wear targets. The first one the enemy wants to take down. He could see the young man who was burned so badly, still hear his frail voice. For some reason, his mind tricked him into seeing Bruce. Seeing Bruce on the muddy battlefields, dying slow and alone._ _

__A hand cupped his face. A lone tear fell down Hal’s cheek.”Don’t worry about me, Hal. I’ll be fine.”_ _

__Maybe that was what John told Shayera when he left from the ports. And in this war, Hal was losing hope in those words._ _

__Hal forced a smile for Bruce’s sake and wiped the tear from his face. He pulled Bruce into his arms realizing that all those lingering gazes and soft kisses was a goodbye lying in wait. A goodbye that no matter when it was said would rip the life out of both of them. Maybe, after all this time, Hal finally understood why a bomber pilot shouldn’t love a field medic. The time wasn’t right and now it had caught up, finally biting at their heels._ _

__Bruce pulled away and reached into his seabag. From it, he pulled out a golden medic badge, a snake curling up a staff and large wings spreading at the top. He placed it in Hal’s palm. Hal didn’t remember Bruce ever wearing it, then again why would he need to. The red cross on his sleeve should have been enough. This badge was something Selina should receive if something was to happen to Bruce. Hal began to shake his head but Bruce kept his hand covering the badge in Hal’s palm._ _

__“Hold onto this until I see you again.”_ _

__“Bruce-” Hal remembered this same scenario. Except he was giving Bruce his wings._ _

__“Remember what you said to me? It’s a promise to come back.”_ _

__Hal nodded, closing his hand around the badge. He pulled Bruce in for a harsh kiss. So many unsaid things hanging on both their tongues. And then Bruce held him in his arms._ _

__In those minutes, Hal tried to remember everything about Bruce’s face, the shimmer in his blue eyes, the small line under his right eye that could only be seen up close, the sound of his laughter after Hal had made a stupid joke. He tried to remember him as if it would be the last time he would see Field Medic Bruce Wayne._ _

__There was nothing easy about goodbyes._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing in a notebook then typing it up is a pain.😒 (That and I get extremely distracted) 
> 
> Thank you for your patience and reading!!💖😊


	6. 6

The rushing shores of Coast City were still blue, just as Hal left them a few months ago. He stood by the Welcome to Coast City sign, two soldiers-an airmen and sailor, saluted those who entered. By his feet was his seabag which held very little of his things from base. The bus, he had no other choice but to take it from Los Angeles, had dropped him where he never imagined he would stand again. 

There was a looming feeling that kept Hal where he stood. Despite being home, the war was far from over. Hal knew that and it didn’t sit well with him. A private miles in front of Hal, had his own seabag over his shoulder as he and a buddy began their trek to home. The sounds of their voices told Hal they were happy to be home, happy to see their girls. Hal gathered up his seabag and walked past the saluting men and pasted the white sign. 

On every corner, women, children, and some men who were unable to fight in the war stopped Hal, thanking him for his service. They were all hailing Hal as a hero. He could only say that he was doing what anyone could do, with a smile on his face. But truthfully, Hal didn’t feel like a hero. Not when he remembered how London was reduced to ruins, how John’s blood was warm on his face. John was a hero. Kyle and Guy. Bruce too. Hal, on base, spent his time sneaking around base, had his crew members maimed and killed. What made him a hero?

Snapping him from his disdain, and the woman in front of him, was Carol. Just a block from Ferris Air. She scrambled out of a friend’s car, pink dress swaying with her movements. She was crying tears of joy, her arms opened as she rushed at him. 

“Hal!” 

But Hal didn’t experience the same joy she felt. He missed her yes, but not as he did in the early days of the war. Each moment with Bruce plagued his mind as he took her in his arms. He buried his face in her neck, trying to reacquaint himself with who was meant to be his home, the person he was supposed to love. 

“Hi, honey,” Hal said softly. 

Carol pulled back to see his face, to try and find some change. All she could see was a flat expression in his eyes. It stabbed at her heart but she pushed it aside and cupped his face, laughing softly.”You didn’t care to write me before showing up like this?” 

“This came as a surprise to me too.” 

She leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to Hal’s lips. He didn’t kiss back at first. Carol pulled away abruptly, she was concerned now about how distant he was being.”I’m sure you want something to eat.”   
Hal nodded vaguely.   
\--

It had been their favorite seaside diner. A cozy place overlooking the shore and accented with cigarette smoke. Hal and Carol had come here almost every weeknight before the war. After that, they would go dancing for hours on end. Life was routine, almost perfect. 

Despite being hungry, Hal only had a few bites of his hamburger. He had one arm behind Carol, the other-bent fingertips holding his cigar, out in front of his face. Carol gazed at him, eyes shining like something was new like she had laid her eyes on the best thing in the world. He blew his smoke towards the ceiling before meeting her gaze.

“What?” 

“What was it like? Over in England.” 

It wasn’t so much a question of the horrors Hal had seen but more so who he had met and had he been faithful to her and only her. Carol knew about the romance surrounding pilots. Women would practically throw themselves at the ones that remained stationed in Coast City. And Hal also knew the type of woman Carol was. She never cared to hear about the war or dwell on it for too long. 

“We had our moments.”Hal wasn’t looking at her. He wouldn’t keep his composure if he did. 

“What kind of moments?” She pressed. 

“It was war, Carol. I’m home now and I don’t see any reason in talking about it.” Hal waved his cigar, his leg beginning to shake against the booth. His jaw clenched and she shifted. Hal took his hand from around her and smoothed his brown hair.”I’m sorry. It’s not you, Honey. I-” 

“There’s no need to apologize.” 

The way Carol leaned up to the table, avoiding Hal for the rest of the evening said otherwise. Hal slumped in his seat continuing to smoke his cigar.   
\--   
Carol noticed a change in Hal. Something in the young man she loved dearly had disappeared. Weeks, with him finally home, had come and gone by. Hal seemed to be a recluse, slowly sinking into himself. He never wanted to go dancing anymore, something he loved. He never unpacked his seabag but the most disturbing thing to Carol was that he stopped sleeping in the same room as her. At late hours of the night, he was in the spare room. Sleeping or rummaging through things, she never knew. Carol would lie awake at night with a heavy weight suffocating her. He must have met some beautiful girl in England and what Hal and Carol once had was now paper in the wind. 

And out of blatant curiosity, Carol went into the spare room while Hal disappeared into the washroom. She went through every drawer in the old wicker desk. At the bottom, underneath his wing pin, was a sealed letter lacking an address. She knew better than to open it but it only added to her fears. And then, the door to the spare room opened. 

“If you love her, you can have her,” Carol said in a hushed tone, the letter in her grasp, as she watched him still by the door. “A girlfriend of mine told me her husband fathered a child overseas. He wrote to her, telling her, he couldn’t come home. Is that why you haven’t been yourself? Have you done the same thing?” 

“Why are you going through my things in the first place?” 

A tear fell down Carol’s cheek.”I’ve lost you to so much more than the war.” 

Hal stared at her in the chilling silence. She wanted a confession and Hal couldn’t offer her one. He could only offer words to pacify her. 

“Do you have any idea what it was like to watch my best friend die? Or maybe a man no older than me, cry out for his mother in a foreign land? You don’t and you worry I love someone else. I’m sorry I can’t be who I was before I left. You don’t know half of what I’ve seen or the things I’ve done!”

“Hal,” Her voice trembled.”I’ve tried to understand. You’ve stopped letting me in. Day after day, I’m beginning to think I don’t know you! I never expected you to come home the same. I only thought...we would act like our lives weren’t interrupted.” 

“You just want to know if there was anyone else? If I broke my promise to you.” 

Carol glanced back at the letter in her hand, her glossy eyes met Hal’s where they stood at odds. “Was there someone else?” 

Hal shrugged, he didn’t want to meet her eyes. This was something that had been burning at the back of Hal’s mind ever since he got home. “There was.”   
\--  
Hal and Carol shuffled around each other for a day or two before Hal told her he was flying out to Chicago. He regretted not seeing Shayera sooner. Not only that but he felt like time away from Carol would help both of them decide where to go after this. 

Walking from the apartment, they shared, Hal could hear Carol’s heel click on the stone pavement as she chased after him. She caught the sleeve of his bomber jacket forcing him to stop and turn to look at her. The tears hung in her eyes. No matter what she was always going to love him, to always choose him. It made it harder for Hal to dismiss her. 

“What did I do for you to stop loving me? I always wrote to you and I waited for you. Just tell me what I did?” 

He gripped both her arms, staring her dead in the eyes. What he said wasn’t a lie. He meant it because at some point he had loved her just as much. Had Carol done the same to Hal, he would have been begging for an explanation.”You didn’t do anything. You were perfect, Carol, you still are. But I am not the man you deserve. You deserve someone who isn’t caught up on another person.”

Carol began to shake her head, tears falling down her face. Hal wiped them away. 

“You deserve more than the son of a bitch, I am.” 

“I don’t want anyone other than you, Hal Jordan. So stay and we can work this out, please?” 

Hal thought as he looked at her scrunched up teary face. He couldn’t keep holding onto Bruce and do this to Carol. He hadn’t received a single letter from Bruce, all he had was that medic badge to hold onto. Hal was deranged by the idea that Bruce would come home and the two of them would spend a perfect life together. Bruce was never Hal’s. Hal thought that the moment Bruce’s combat boots touched midway, he was dead. There was no reason to believe otherwise. Holding onto Bruce was holding onto a ghost. 

He pulled Carol into his arms. He never stopped loving her. Give it some time, he thought, he could love her as he once did.”I’ll come home soon.”   
\--   
Shayera rarely smoked like John. Hal stood guarded across the living room. The house felt like a shrine. Photos of John littered around the walls. On the table, to which Hal forced his eyes away, were John’s wings and commendations for his service. Medals were nothing. Hal was sure Shayera would have rather had John then a little bit of silver and ribbon. And at that moment, Hal felt guilt seep into his bones. Had it been him, rather than John, Carol would have been left with memories. Even though he was home, he was only giving her memories to live with. 

He shuffled across the floor and sat on the sofa next to her. Despite the months that edged on, the wound was ever fresh for her. 

Hal thought that coming here was a mistake. Truth be told, he came to take the weight of his shoulders, to see if there was any reason to live after Bruce. Hal accepted the idea that Bruce was gone. It was the same feeling Carol must have felt. Waiting on a ghost, only she no longer waited on one, she lived with a ghost. And Hal, he couldn’t stop waiting for his ghost to come home. 

Shayera’s hands shook as he twisted her wedding band. A matching one laid on the table next to John’s dog tags. 

“He loved you.” 

“I know.” She turned her emerald eyes to Hal, smoke curling around her face.”I don’t want you to apologize. Not anymore. He’s gone and you’ll only be wasting your breath.” 

Hal nodded. 

“But it doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. It leaves me awake with questions.” She looked past Hal, a fond smile forming on her lips as a tear rolled down her cheek.”Makes me wonder why I fell in love with someone so selfless.” 

“You and him were one and the same.” 

“Now, I’m left with a part of him and it’s so much more than I can ask for. You’re so lucky, Hal.” 

How, he wanted to ask.

“You’ve got Carol. Someone for the rest of your life. I have to be happy with the time I was given So many of us have to be.” 

He stared at her unsure of what to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have to say anything. Her daughter’s cry spilled through the house and Shayera got up abruptly, heading down the hall. Hal followed out of curiosity of the child he had never met. 

Shayera had her eyes glued to the small child as she rocked the bundle of blankets in her arms. So much affection, so much love. Hal reached into the blanket, taking the small fingers into his palm. He smiled for the first time in months. 

Everyone was moving on. Hal felt the need to do the same. He could no longer be stuck on the days that became memories faster than he had wanted. Like Shayera, he could only be happy with the time he was given. The time in which Bruce was his own, to want more than that was only being selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy was this chapter long! One More!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. 7

Sailors and Marines poured into the coast. Hats flew over their heads and flags waved in celebration of the war coming to an end. In the chill of a fall afternoon, Hal stood on his balcony searching for a needle in a haystack. The needle’s medic badge digging into his palm. Hal gave up hope months ago but still as the ships poured in, he could feel the hope waking up again. Instead of going out into the crowds to search for Bruce, he stayed on the balcony overlooking. 

Soon the war, everyone who took up arms and sacrificed, would be a memory, a few pages in a history book. Not much more than that. 

Carol joined Hal on the balcony. They talked sparsely about the mystery person Hal came to love during his time in England. Somehow, someway, they wanted to work back to the people they once were. The young kids who fell in love while watching some of the earliest planes take to the sky. And if they ever made it back to that, it would be a surprise to Hal. For now, they would continue to live as ghosts of themselves in the world they had left behind. 

“The war’s finally over.”Happiness hung like honey in Carol’s voice. Hal craned his neck to see her gazing at the crowd, a smile on her lips. Hal almost wanted to ask her to go down there, to be among the celebration but he decided against it. 

“Sometimes, I never thought I’d see the end.” 

Hal broke into tears rather abruptly, joy for the end of a treacherous four years and sadness for the friends who couldn’t see it’s ending. He could feel the medic badge dig into his palm as he tightened his fist. Carol placed her hand on his forearm and rested her head on his shoulder. 

Crying, he watched families embrace their son, lovers embrace their loved ones. It was an ending so many had longed for. 

On the balcony embraced in their charred world, Hal and Carol watched life start all over again. They wondered if they too could do the same 

Hal and Carol were married that following year. But, he never forgot the medic he fell in love with on the air force base.   
\--  
Selina waited with heavy anticipation for Bruce to come home. His last letter told her about the orders to go to Midway and he told Selina everything would be fine. She held onto that. His mother, Martha, stood next to her in the foyer of Wayne Manor. And when a heavy knock split their silence Selina ran her hands over her dress before she headed to the door. She hadn’t expected the military personnel at the door, their hats low, and somber looks on their faces. Selina didn’t need to hear them say anything. She knew what it meant. Martha cried out in agony only a mother would know. Selina clutched the fabric of her dress as she fell to the floor. 

It was the end of the war. The end of a lifetime before it had begun. 

The remnants of Bruce were packed into his seabag. His uniforms and fatigues tossed inside in a haphazard bundle. Letters from Selina mostly but in the very bottom, addressed to Hal Jordan of Coast City, was a letter that hadn’t been sent. Selina knew about Hal. The last letter Bruce wrote told her about how he was leaving her, how he couldn’t change the fact that he loved Hal. It hurt Selina to her very soul but like any other woman, she had hoped he would come home, and that they could work things out. 

She carefully opened the letter and pulled out each sheet of Bruce’s handwriting. She skimmed over it by the light of the fireplace, tears threatening to fall down her face. He loved Hal so much. Bruce talked about coming home, about just where he and Hal would go first. Selina took a deep breath. She balled up the papers and tossed them into the fire. 

Quickly, it burned into nothing but a memory. 

She and Hal would be the only two people to know about the field medic who loved a bomber pilot. A memory they would forever be haunted by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap! (Originally I wasn't going to end it this way but then I changed my mind.) 
> 
> Thank you for reading and sticking around! I hope you enjoyed this story!💖😊


	8. (Alt. Ending)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the alt ending. This doesn't have to be read but if you don't fancy sad endings here ya go!

Carol had her eyes glued on Hal through the glass door that led to their balcony. He had been watching the ships pour into the bay ever since the news of the war ending spread across the radio. Since morning well into the afternoon, he stood out there not once staring back into the apartment. Sailors, Marines, and infantrymen met their families and loved ones on the shore, a heartwarming sight nonetheless. Four long years had come to a halt. The war was over. Countries and families were healing. One could almost feel the joy in the air. 

Expect around Hal. 

Cautiously Carol tipped out onto the balcony next to Hal. She gripped his forearm and watched the sailors toss their hats up into the air. She knew they were never going to be how they were before he left. Carol had come to terms with that. With enough thinking, she knew there was only one thing she could do."You want to go down there, don't you? See if he's alive?" 

"Carol-" Hal almost sounded tired, tired of having this conversation. 

"It's..it's alright, Hal. I know what you're feeling. I felt that for months when you were gone. I can't stop you and I can't change your mind. But...I don't want you to be miserable for the sake of saving face. If you love him, and if he's down there, you should go find him." 

"I've let go of him." 

Carol laughed and Hal found her eyes."No, you haven't. You wouldn't still be holding onto his badge." She gestured to his tight fist. Hal dropped his head to his chest, nodding. 

"Go, Hal." 

Hal looked at her but only saw that she stood fast in what she said. The smile on her face was sincere and filled with so many years of love. The medic badge dug into his palm. Despite telling himself to give Bruce up, to let him go, because he was never his, flew from his mind. He cupped Carol's face in his hands, kissing her forehead tenderly. 

"I love you, I always did." 

"I know."She smoothed the lapels of his flight jacket."I'll be right here if you ever need me." 

And they broke apart, Hal moving bristly for the front door. He was never going to admit the regret he felt inside if he had not gone. At the same time, He felt relief. Carol had set him free, the words he had been waiting for. Carol didn't watch him go. She watched the street below. A fond smile growing on her lips. So much of the world was just beginning. For both her and Hal. 

\--   
Hal weaved past Sailors, loud with laughter and few crying for finally being back on solid ground. Some of them grabbed Hal by the shoulder, bright smiles on their face as they pulled him into hugs. None of them really cared about who they grabbed, just as long as they could spread the word. The very word that had been messily written and strung up in every shop on the streets.

The war was over and the world was in love. 

The ports were so crowded, so full of people wandering about. Hal smiled, sliding his hands into his pockets. If John could see it, he thought. 

Hal grew closer to the dock, the celebration thinning and the smell of the ocean flooding his senses. He hadn't found Bruce yet. Rather than there being a pit in his stomach, Hal prepared himself for this. It was wrong to even imagine the possibility. He clutched the badge in his pocketed fist, acting as though Bruce would appear like a Genie from touching it. 

Rather than heading back, Hal stood alone by the edge of the dock. The crowd began to march up the street, an impromptu parade in Coast City. Hal looked out on the water, wondering just where and what- 

“Captain? Can I fix your wounds?” 

Hal knew that voice. He spun on his heels and before his eyes was the same blue-eyed field medic with a shit-eating grin on his face and seabag at his feet. The only difference was that Bruce had come straight off the battlefield. His face covered in soot, his uniform undoubtedly covered in another man’s blood. Hal didn’t care. He closed the gap between them. Close enough to see those small lines under his eyes, but not touching him. Not touching him as if they hadn’t met for a lifetime.

“You came back,” Hal whispered in disbelief, his eyes roaming every inch of Bruce. The happiness he felt, leaked from his eyes as he laughed softly. 

“I made a promise, didn’t I?”

Hal wiped the tears from his face with his forearm.”Yeah. Yeah, you did.” 

“Come here.” 

Bruce cupped Hal’s face and pulled him in for a kiss. And for a moment, the voices cheering for the end of the war, sounded like they cheered for Hal and Bruce. And when Hal pulled away looking into those oceanic eyes, all he could see was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned like a week or two ago on Tumblr that I wanted to write an alt ending. (Mainly because It was going to be a happy ending in the first place but I got all edgy and said Nah.) 
> 
> Anyway, I hope this fills your heart with some joy, and also if I write some WWII one-shots(Post WWII, too), Bruce isn't oddly resurrected. I loved this story so much. (And for some reason I can't stop thinking about it and writing stuff but...that's not a bad thing?) Before I ramble off, Thank You so much for reading, for commenting, and sticking around on this somewhat self-indulgent fic. 💖😊

**Author's Note:**

> (I was this close to making this a Vietnam Au. Here's another WIP because I can't control myself and fell in love with this idea. I've been watching documentaries about war because who doesn't? I mean I'm also using this to distract myself from the story I'm trying to write but that is unimportant.) 
> 
> This is the first chapter of...many? I tried writing two other things that were not this au and to be brief I hated them. But this, this is my baby. (AND I wrote a smut...sort of. I'm still working on writing smutty things.)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!😊💖


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